Dancing 'til Dawn
by Maro Shanaye
Summary: When Harry Potter decided that, on his 17th Birthday, he'd attempt to go to a club, he didn't expect to see anyone he knew there.


**Dancing 'til Dawn.**

**Description:** When Harry Potter decided that, on his 17th Birthday, he'd go to a club, he didn't expect to see anyone he knew there.  
**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, though I doubt she'd like what i'm doing with her Golden Boy.  
**Warnings**: Slash, Mentions of femslash, Dancing, Alcohol, Manlove, Arguably Slight OOC Draco.

It was nearing dusk at number four, Privet Drive, and Harry Potter was slouched in the chair by the window. Uncle Vernon would probably not be pleased if he knew Harry was using the living room to relax. Harry's relatives had gone away for the weekend, leaving Harry alone in the house. It had taken much persuasion on Petunia's part to convince her husband that Harry wouldn't blow up the house when they were away. So here he sat, alone, on his birthday. Some things would never change.

This particular birthday however, Harry thought relatively special. It was his seventeenth birthday, his coming of age in the magical world. Technically, the age at which he could use magic outside of school – although doing so in the Dursley's household may see him forcible ejected from it.

Harry twiddled his thumbs and stared out at the Dursley's perfectly kept front lawn. Little flowers surrounded it, and a straight stone path lead from the front door to the pavement. As he sat growing steadily more bored, Harry made a decision. He would celebrate, for the first time, his birthday properly – by going out.

xxxxx

Harry stared at himself in the mirror and then pulled the white shirt off over his head, throwing it on the growing pile next to his bed.

'Why do I have no suitable clothes.' He thought to himself. 'Oh yeah, because most of them are Dudley's'. It was also too late to go shopping anywhere, he would have to find something.

But then Harry had a thought, and swooped down to pick back up the discarded white shirt. It was just a school shirt – but due to his growth during the summer it now fitted him quite well. Buttoning up the front, he reached over to his bedside table and took up his wand. Considering himself once more in the mirror, he closed his eyes, and spoke a spell.

His eyes were still tight shut, no alarm bells, no fire, no screams... Slowly he opened them. His shirt was now a dark green. 'It worked...' Harry thought. 'I'll have to thank Hermione later'.

It was quite a nice colour on him really, Harry wasn't quite sure why he never bothered buying a shirt this colour before. All he seemed to own was either white, or black. He eyed himself as a thought came to his head, it was slightly Slytherin looking... but he shook that off, stupid prejudices. His outfit complete, Harry decided that some changed might be necessary to his face. Sure, he was planning on going somewhere muggle, but perhaps hiding that scar wouldn't be a bad idea... He looked outside. Rain. Maybe he would do something so that he wouldn't need his glasses for tonight, too.

xxxxx

Half an hour later, a teenage boy closed the door to number four, scar covered, glasses temporarily gone. The charms hiding his scar and restoring an adequate sense of vision would only last until morning, but they were good enough for Harry's cause.

It was a short walk to the main road from the Dursley's house, and a short taxi ride into town. Harry paid the driver without speaking a word. From here, Harry wasn't exactly sure where to go. He had been into this part of Surrey only once, and that was being pulled along by Uncle Vernon at a very fast pace – just in case anyone spotted them and noticed his 'freakiness'. Thankfully, there were other people, all about his age, about too. Subtly, Harry followed a group of boys.

He ended up staring up at a relatively large building, with a large lit up sign. He supposed this was better than nothing, and joined the queue outside. Here, Harry faced a slight dilemma. He was 17. The age to get into clubs was 18. He therefore felt understandably nervous as he approached the bouncer that challenged Uncle Vernon's build.

"I.D?" He was asked. Harry tried to look passive and nonchalant.

"I left it at home.. only realised when I got into the taxi earlier". He said, impressing himself with his coolness.

The bouncer looked him up and down, but gave a sigh, a nod, and waved him passed.

When Harry got inside he didn't have time to let out a sigh of relief, before he was hit by a wave of extremely loud music.

As he wandered about he noticed two things. One, the music didn't get any quieter wherever you went. Two, none of the girls seemed to be wearing very much.

Leaning over the bar, he got himself a drink, and sipped it whilst watching people dancing on the stage. He realised that he was one of the few people here on his own, and immediately felt slightly self conscious. Harry had never thought about how he would look, standing there on his own. Peering round, he found only one other person doing it; a middle aged man in a leather jacket who was leering in his direction. Eyes widening, he quickly turned back to the bar.

Very soon, Harry was ordering another drink.

"3 pounds," the barman shouted at him.

"I'll get this one." Harry turned to his right, where a man was handing over a five pound note. The man turned to him, and smiled. "Hey." He said.

"Oh, no really, I can-" Harry stopped his fumbling as his drink was pressed into his hand. "Well, thanks." He said.

"My pleasure." The stranger said. He was tall, and dark – not unlike Harry himself. They turned to look over the crowd, standing in awkward silence.

"You come here often?" The man shouted over the music. Harry just shook his head, taking a sip of his drink. "Me neither." The stranger stated. "What's your name?"

"Er, Harry". Harry replied, squashing the idea of giving a fake name – why should he anyway? Nobody knew who Harry Potter was, in the muggle world.

"Hi, Harry", the man held out his hand, and Harry shook it. "So, when you finish, you fancy a dance?"

Harry's eyes widened slightly. Dance? With this man? Surely that was a bit... strange. But then again, he didn't know anyone else, did he? Harry nodded, smiling slightly. Hey, maybe he'd make a new muggle friend in the process.

Harry turned his eyes back to the dancers. It made him smile that girls danced with girls, and boys with boys, just like the lower years at Hogwart's Balls. Everyone too shy to ask someone from the other gender to dance. Harry frowned into his drink slightly when he saw two females dancing slightly closer than the years below... very close in fact. He almost choked when they leaned their lips into one another, capturing a deep kiss.

Now he liked to watch two girls as much as the next man, but for some reason, this was not one of those times. He swept his eyes hastily to where he saw a group of men dancing earlier, and sure enough, he realised his mistake.

Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world, the boy who lived, the golden boy, was in a gay club.

TBC


End file.
